Rick could not shake off a chill sense of foreboding as the mass of the
city was left behind. It did not seem possible they could so easily
escape a monster whose tentacles encircled the earth. Might it not even
now be watching them through unseen eyes in the walls of the great
buildings? When they had gone far enough would it not jerk them back,
willing to play a cat-and-mouse game with them until they no longer had
energies enough left to continue the fight?
He told himself that he was taking too despairing a view. Deva had
lived all her life here, and had been trained as a technical designer
of circuits such as those employed by the Machine. She understood its
workings, and knew that it could be misled and deceived.
He hoped, too, that someday men would do more than just run away from
the Machine. A vague but burning desire had been kindled to activity
within him. He would have given his life to be an instrument, no matter
how small, in its destruction. But he knew that in his lifetime such a
rebellion by the many might well remain only a dream.
He turned his attention to the road as they cleared the advancing edges
of the residential section and moved out onto the express highway,
heading south.
Deva slowed the car. “We’ll be checked at the first automatic station,”
she said. “The scanners will note that this is a car from the city and
record our basic identification. We’ll have to abandon the car before
then. But that won’t be safe, either--until after dark.”
His spirits rose as darkness descended and the countryside became more
open. The sense of confinement, which had been with him ever since
he entered the city, dropped away and he began to feel as free as he
had felt during all the years of his childhood in the open country of
Lonestar.
“We’ll have to turn off soon,” said Deva. “Keep on the alert for some
kind of trail that might lead down to the river. We’ll run the car into
the water if we can get it safely down the bank.”
A few minutes later, in the glow of the car’s headlights, Rick called
attention to a sharp turn-off directly ahead. Deva took the controls
and in another moment they had come to a halt by the bank of the river.
She directed Rick to get out, and then set the car in motion again. He
held his breath as it descended the steep bank. He thought for a moment
she had stayed with it too long, but her running figure stumbled to the
ground an instant before it struck the water with a resounding splash,
and vanished from sight in the swirling dark current.
“Are you hurt?” he called, hastening down the bank.
“My wrist--” she answered in momentary agony. Then, as he reached her
side: “I’ll be all right. We’ve got to keep moving as fast as we can.”
Her speed and endurance astonished him as they moved through the
sheltering brush in the darkness. He wondered how her city life could
have endowed her with such stamina. But there was little time for
questions.
“There’s the check station,” she said, a few minutes later. “That red
light over on the highway about a half mile down. Our best bet would be
to get in the water and float past it. They might have detectors out if
our absence has been broadcast.”
“Can you swim that far in the dark?” he asked.
“We’ll find a driftlog--if we can,” she said.
They found a suitable log in the next few minutes. They made bundles of
their clothes, so that they could be held out of the water and kept dry
as long as possible. Then they slipped soundlessly into the cold, muddy
waters, pushing the log forward laboriously between them.
They kept silent, paddling slowly through what seemed an eternity
of cold and darkness, letting the current do most of the work. Rick
tried to estimate the distance they had traveled, but the light of the
inspection station was invisible from the level of the water’s surface.
At last Deva spoke, her voice thin with cold and anxiety. “This is far
enough. I’m sure we must be well past the station.”
They climbed out on the bank once more and saw the signal light a
satisfying distance behind them. They dried themselves hastily against
the chill of the night and donned their clothes, which had remained
fairly dry.
“Don’t you want to rest for a while?” Rick asked.
“No time for that,” Deva said. “We’ve got to put as much distance as
possible between ourselves and that station before daylight. We can
find a place to rest and hide all day tomorrow.”
As dawn approached, Deva could no longer conceal her fatigue. They had
not slowed during the night, but now they began searching for adequate
shelter to protect them from observation during the day. They found it
at last in a thick cluster of foliage by the river bank. So dense was
its canopy of leaves that even the sky was hidden from their sight when
they were at rest in its center.
They ate a small quantity of the food concentrate which they had
smuggled out, and almost immediately afterwards Deva fell into a deep
sleep.
Rick remained awake until the sun was high overhead, keeping an alert
lookout for possible pursuit. There was no sign of a hue and cry from
any direction. He began to let himself think that they were no longer
in any immediate danger. Possibly the Machine and the Watch Police were
not even very much concerned about an escape such as theirs. Citizens
who wanted to run away were probably considered of very little value to
society.
He allowed drowsiness to creep upon him as he contemplated his
future plans. His first and major obligation was to see Deva to the
nearest settlement of the Outlanders at which she wished to stay.
Then he’d drift on. No place in particular. Eventually, he supposed,
he’d have to throw in with the Outlanders somewhere. But until that
day arrived--well, he’d always wanted to see as much of the land as
possible.
He thought, too, of Deva. She had remarkable courage and an amazing
spirit of independence, he admitted in admiration. He might even find
himself missing that fiery mop of hair and equally burning temper. In
any event, he owed her a debt of gratitude he could never repay.
He was aware next of darkness and of hands tugging at him in ungentle
persistence. Deva’s voice whispered impatiently in his ear. “Come on,
it’s time we were on our way!”
He struggled awake, and snatched up a food concentrate. He munched on
it as they made their way cautiously out of the shelter.
“How much farther must we go before we start hitting Outlander
settlements?” he asked.
“It’s hard to tell,” she replied. “They move around. But we should be
on the edge of their country by morning.”
They moved rapidly through the wilderness again, following the course
of the river, but Deva tired more quickly now. She was willing to stop
for rest occasionally but not for long. It was approaching dawn when
they heard the first faint thread of unfamiliar sound in the air. Deva
paused in alarm and glanced up to the sky, listening.
“What is it?” Rick asked.
“I don’t know. Wait--yes, I do. They’re after us! That’s a helicopter,
and it’s heading straight this way.”
Frantically, she raced toward the heavy foliage on the shore. The sound
increased and seemed to arrow toward them. They settled in a crouch
under the densest cover they could find. But still the sound came on.
Suddenly Deva gasped. “I should have remembered--!”
“Remembered what?”
“Quick!” she urged, grasping his arm. “Into the water!”
Not understanding, Rick stumbled riverward through the brush. “What
for?” he asked.
“Infra-red detectors. They’re certain to have them. They may be trained
on us already. The water may not mask us. But it’s our only chance.”
* * * * *
They were out of the underbrush now and descending the sloping bank.
The sound of the beating vanes was so loud in their ears that it seemed
almost upon them. Suddenly a tiny spurt of light snapped out of the
sky. Momentarily it cast a ball of flaming brilliance about Deva. Then
she cried out and fell to the ground.
“I’m hit! Go on, Rick. Into the water. Forget about me--”